Hetalia Oneshots
by vanillapeachtea
Summary: A collection of Heatlia oneshots, I am a sucker for romance, so those will probably be a lot of those feel free to leave a request if there is a particular couple you would like to see, or see more of! Edit: there is now a oneshot for Prucan, Male!BelarusxCanada, NedCan, and SpaBel each! Request away!
1. Prucan

**A/N: Hello! I've decided to write a series of Hetalia oneshots, but I'll need requests from you guys to give me ideas. So if there is a particular couple or just a particular type of fic including AU, and maybe crack, or if you want me to write a hetalia adaptation of a fairy tale or a song fic you can leave a request in the reviews section, or you can PM me! I don't mind either way and I'll do as many as I can. This first chapter is a prucan fic, that was requested a while ago. ^_^ Thank you! **

**Disclaimer: I do not, nor will I ever own hetalia.**

~V~P~T~

Gilbert was horrified. He didn't know what to do, this situation was entirely too impossible to get out of. Deciding that the only thing he could do was to mentally prepare himself to sleep on the couch for the next four to six years, depending on how fair the judge happened to be feeling that day. Unfortunately, the judge also just so happened to be the victim in this situation, so thing were looking particularly bleak for the Albino nation.

The whisper quiet sound of footsteps sounded from the hall outside of the kitchen where Gilbert was standing, his heart was pounding, but of course, he wasn't scared. The Awesome representative of Prussia doesn't get scared, no, of course not, that'd be crazy!

"Gilbert?" the soft voice of his adorable birdie came from the doorway, to most people it would sound like he was whispering, but Gilbert knew him well enough to know that he was speaking at what was a normal level for him. Shouting was a feat that Matthew had yet to achieve, yet Gilbert wouldn't be surprised if today was the day that his Blonde better half would find his voice. Hey, desperate times _do_ call for desperate measures don't they? Matthew moved across the kitchen towards gilbert, each move soft yet determined, and he came to a stop right in front of Gilbert, his big blue eyes that always looked like they were on the verge of filling with tears stared up at him.

Lifting his arms, Gibert softly wrapped them around the blonde angel, tucking the smaller boys head underneath his chin and inhaling the sweet scent of his freshly washed hair as Matthew nestled deeper into the embrace. Gilbert was trying to use his knowledge of the Canadian Nation to make his soften and melt like butter in his attempt to take shelter from the encroaching storm. Pausing in his morning cuddle, Matthew lifted his head and sniffed the air.

Gilbert froze in horror.

"Gil? Did you make pancakes?" He turned his head to look at the Prussian, surprised to see that his face was turning white and he was chewing roughly on the inside of his cheek.

"N-no." He stuttered. _Stuttered_! Matthew didn't think he had ever heard the self-proclaimed 'awesome' Prussia stutter before, this was completely out of character for the white haired Nation, and it only served to heighten his curiosity and rising suspicion. He decided that he wouldn't back down as he usually would, and instead keep pressing on for answers.

"Are you sure? It does smells like pancakes. Did you burn them or something? I won't be mad if you did don't worry."

"Ha, like the awesome me could ever burn would be so un-awesome of me" While the words were definitely something that Gilbert would say, they were said in a shaky nervous way. Matthew kept pushing. He opened his mouth and said in his usual half whisper,

"Then what is it Gil? Clearly something is bothering you; please tell me what it is." Tightening his arms around Gilbert he stared up at him, making his face as vulnerable looking as he could, with one strand of his blonde hair resting in between his wide aquamarine eyes. He knew that Gil was a sucker for this look and while he may look sweet, he wasn't above using blackmail to get what he wants. Gilbert knew exactly what he was trying to do, and he was sad to say it was working far too well for him, geez, Matthew could be such a deceptively conniving little bitch when he wanted to be. He was smart, and though he was sweet and shy, he was comfortable enough around Gilbert to know how to play him.

When he didn't respond, Matthew decided to turn it up and he withdrew his arms from around Gil's waist and instead slid them around himself, turning his head down and hiding his eyes behind his thick lashes, he let one single fake tear delicately hang from his eye, and he made his voice so soft, it was almost inaudible, "Don't you trust me Gilbert?"

Looking both torn and desperate, Gilbert glanced around seemingly for an exit. When none were forthcoming, he sighed and ran his hand through his hair, "Of course I trust you I just-" He cut himself off and ran another hand through his hair with even more visible nervousness and frustration. "Okay, okay I'll show you, but Birdie… please don't be mad."

"You'll show me? What do you have to show me?" Now that he was getting what he wanted he dropped the act and went back to staring up at the Prussian man, his eyebrows scrunched cutely in confusion.

Gilbert softly took his hand, and led him towards the pantry door, gesturing to the fridge as he passed it. "I did make some pancakes, they're in there. But that's not the, um, issue" They reached the pantry and reaching out; Gilbert grasped the doorknob lightly, as though he thought that the door may self-destruct if he was too rough with it. He steeled himself, taking a deep breath to calm his racing heart and flip-flopping stomach. _Very_ slowly he opened the door inwards, the cute Canadian behind him was getting kind of worried now, what could have _possibly_ have made the usually brash and extroverted Albino act so… for a lack of a better word, _submissively_; it was so unusual that he found himself hoping that Gilbert didn't murder Roderich and hide the body in the pantry. No, that probably wouldn't happen; Gilbert was always telling him that if he murdered someone, the perfect place to hide the body would be a cemetery. Matthew wasn't really sure why he kept on telling him that.

After what must have been at least a minute of hesitating, Gil finally managed to completely open the door and pulled the string to turn on the dim light they kept in there. At first, the Canadian couldn't see anything and when he did, he couldn't believe what he saw. It was worse than finding a dead Austria, with his blood spilling everywhere. This was more horrifying than those saw movies Alfred had tried to make his watch, then made Matthew turn them off as he was too scared. No, this was a thousand times worse than either of those things; the blonde suddenly severely doubted that he would be able to keep his promise not to get angry.

Seeping slowly across the dull grey pantry floor was Matthews own personal ambrosia. The Maple syrup was still a gorgeous golden brown colour, but littered throughout it was the broken shards of glass from the shattered leaf bottles that had once stored the sweet liquid. Somehow Gilbert had managed to knock all ten of the bottles down from the high shelf where Matthew kept them safely stored. How didn't matter right now to Matthew, only that the tragedy before him was real and that it was the fault of a certain Prussian nation.

After staring at the heart wrenching sight for at least another five minutes and trying to wrap his mind around it, he felt himself begin to go through the five stages of grief:

Denial

_The syrup can't be gone. This isn't possible, this isn't real_

Anger

_Why the _hell_ would Gilbert do this? I'll kill him! I'LL KILL HIM"_

Bargain- wait, Matthew didn't think he was quite done with anger yet. He slowly turned to face the albino, who, if it were possible, had gone even paler.

"Gilbert…" He said is as dangerous of a tone as his naturally gentle voice would allow, "What did you _do_?" before he gave the panicking nation time to respond, he stormed out of the room, his stomping footsteps would have been regular footfalls if it were anyone but him. He couldn't physically harm Gilbert, even if he _was_ furious, he wasn't capable of being that cold, but he would definitely have his revenge.

He hoped that Gilbert was fluffing up the couch cushions; it was going to be a _long_ time before he saw his bed again.

~V~P~T~

**A/N: I was getting super tired when I was writing that last part for some reason, so I apologise if there are lots of spelling and grammar issues. Actually when I wrote that last sentence I had to rewrite issues almost four times, just to get it right… So I hope you enjoyed and leave a review or request if you liked it! No flames please! I'm looking forward to seeing what you guys request. Thanks! ^J^ Hey, what's Russia doing there? Get out of here Russia this isn't your chapter. See you hopefully soon!**


	2. Male BelarusxCanada

**A/N: Thank you for all of the great reviews! I'll try to do as many of the suggested pairings as possible but I'm not sure how easy that'll be! This chapter is going to be Male!Belarus x Canada. Geez! You guys really like Canada! Not that I blame you… he is awfully adorable. This chapter is also a songfic, and the song is Air Catcher by Twenty One Pilots. Great song by the way, thank you for introducing me to the band! I've never written Belarus before, so I hope that it's not too OOC! And by the way, NedCan is certainly allowed, I'll try to work on it but my knowledge of Netherlands is kinda limited…**

**Disclaimer: I **_**still**_** don't own Hetalia or Air Catcher, but I'm working on it ;)**

V~P~T~

I don't fall slow like I used to

I fall straight down

You've stolen my air catcher

That kept me safe and sound

When at the world meetings, it was common for Matthew to be completely ignored; and he was okay with that, that was the steady constant in his life, practically a routine by now. Go to meetings, be ignored, go home, go to meetings, be ignored, go home, he almost felt that his invisibility was a sort of blessing. He didn't think he could handle having people pay attention to him. It's true that it was nice when Francis or Alfred said hello once in a while, or even remembered his birthday once in every decade or two, but honestly, that was all he felt that he needed, he had a quiet, calm, routine life, and he was completely content.

But now, the usual routine had been disrupted. Fate had shuffled up her deck and served him a hand that completely blindsided him. He never saw it coming.

My parachutes will get me

Safely to ground

But now the cord's not working

And I see you staring me down

During one meeting, Matthew had begun to feel a bit of a chill, like someone had opened up a window next to him and let in a blast of cold air. Goosebumps raised the hair on his arms and he rubbed them nervously, quickly glancing up and down the table at the obnoxious, arguing nations. He froze when his eyes met the cold Sapphire eyes of another nation. The small nation had felt he heart freeze in his chest as he met the hard stare of Nikolai, The Belrusian nation. Matthew had always feared him, his dark aura and apparent psychotic tendencies making him wish to be even more invisible than he already was. He had been lucky enough to have for the most part avoided the possessive nation, and while he had noticed the others stares once or twice before, he had assumed that it was due to his habit of blanking out, of the jealousy brought on by having Russia sit on him.

Boy was he wrong

I won't fall in

Love with fall in

I will try to avoid

Those eyes

After a while, the stares didn't seem to bother the Canadian nation very much, they weren't particularly hostile, not like then the platinum blonde was staring down the other nations. He even found that… he didn't entirely mind it. No! no,no,no. it would be no good to form any sort of friendship with Nikolai, he would probably end up breaking apart the delicate nation, or forgetting him like the rest. He wouldn't stare back at him again. Never. Again.

I think you would beat

The moon in a pretty contest

And the moon just happened to be

The very first thing that I missed

Matthew was sitting outside on Japan's porch; he was once again there for a world meeting. He had managed to successfully avoid the burning stare that he could feel directed at him. Or at least he had _mostly_ avoided it.

It was nighttime, and the sweet smell of the cherry blossoms was wafting lazily through the air. The moon was hanging above him in a waxing gibbous. It would be full in just a couple days' time. He was snuggled into his comfy red hoodie despite the warm night, just sitting and soaking in the calming atmosphere. He was surprised when he heard the thunking sound of boots against the wooden porch, and he turned his head to look at whoever it was, and while it was Nikolai, he was surprised to see that for once he didn't find himself staring into the deep blue unfathomable depths of his eyes, instead those same orbs were facing up forwards the moon and he sat down next to Matthew. His dark aura seemed to have had toned down, Matthew guessed that even he was susceptible to the calming Japanese night.

Neither spoke for a while, Matthew too scared, and Nikolai seemed to have completely spaced out again. Finally Matthew plucked up the courage and spoke softly and shakily,

"The m-moon is beautiful" There were a few more beats of silence before the taller nation responded. His deep voice resonating in the quiet night.

"Either Lars or Mathias, I can't recall which, said that the shadow on the moon was someone imprisoned there as punishment for a crime. I wonder how long he stared aimlessly at the earth until he was forgiven."

"O-oh…" was the only response that Matthew could muster up; unsure of how to respond. Suddenly, Nikolai turned to face the gentle nation his eyes carefully studying the terrified boys face.

"You are much more beautiful and pure than any moon I've seen." As he was forcefully studied, the tiny blonde couldn't find the breath to respond.

I was doing fine on my own

And there wasn't much I lacked

But you've stolen my air catcher

And I don't know if I want it back

He was seriously beginning to consider that maybe the Belrusian Nation wasn't as dark as everyone always made him out to be.

I won't fall in

Love with fall in

I will try to avoid

Those eyes

Matthew knew that there were good reasons for avoiding Nikolai, and as he steeled himself; he told himself that all he would have to do is to avoid those gorgeous eyes. Wait, when did they stop being intimidating and become gorgeous? No matter, he was going to avoid them regardless of how handsome he thought he was.

'Cause I'm not sure

I want to give you

Tools that can destroy

My heart

There was nothing that hurt more than giving his heart, his trust to someone, only to have them betray and abandon him. He knew that it was inevitable, the same thing had happened with Francis, Arthur and…Alfred, his own brother. Someone like him just wasn't important or interesting enough to stay with. Nikolai would undoubtedly tire of him and throw him out like he was nothing better than trash, which, in a way, he knew he wasn't. He wouldn't let himself be hurt again, especially by someone with a reputation such as the platinum blondes.

And judges don't say

What you want to hear

So I'll write my fears

And I don't believe

In talking just to breathe

And falling selfishly

He was really okay with being alone. It was perfectly fine, and how he would continue to live. At some point he had begun to accept that he had… feelings for Nikolai, but he truly didn't want to burden him with his pathetic, unrequited feelings.

I won't fall in

Love with fall in

I will try to avoid

Those eyes

Those eyes… he swore that those deep, enthralling eyes were going to be the death of him. He was determined to remain alone, but his resolve was being steadily weakening with every push that the Belrusian man made against his defences. The purposeful touches, the steady stare, and the word spoke with the pure purpose of getting a reaction from the honey blonde. Matthew definitely knew that his feelings weren't actually unrequited, the affectionate words proved that, as well as the fact that the taller Nation had held his hand throughout an entire world meeting, refusing to let go.

Even through his fallen defences he vowed to not give in, to somehow find a way to resist. If you don't fall, you can't be hurt right?

But now I'm here

To give you words

As tools that can destroy

My heart

"I love you." Matthew was completely shocked and maybe even a little bit horrified to realize that the words had come from his own mouth. They were, yet again, at a world meeting and as per usual it was a complete disaster. After standing up to go to the bathroom, he had accidently gotten pulled into a vicious argument between Francis and Arthur that had turned physical. He had been pushed around for a little while, neither nation noticing the unwanted addition to their fight; before being thrown to the floor and managing to crawl to safety. He had jerked back in surprise when his hand met a familiar pair of boots that were firmly planted on the ground in front of hm.

Looking up, he had seen a murderous Nikolai, looking like he was out for blood, his dark aura was swirling wickedly around him, and he reached inside of his coat and pulled out a deadly sharp knife. Matthew had gasped and scrambled to his feet when he saw the widely grinning, sapphire eyed demon begin to approach Francis and Arthur with every intention of cutting up the ones who harmed his adorable blonde. When Matthew had finally managed to get back to his feet, he lunged at Nikolai, wrapping his arms around his waist and pressing his face into his back. Francis and Arthur, who had noticed the approaching storm, paused in their fighting and slowly began to back away from the intimidating man.

Using all his strength, Matthew had dragged Nikolai out of the meeting room and into the nearby hallway, still holding tight to the stronger nation, who stared down at him, the anger in his face had scared Matthew even though he knew that it wasn't directed at him.

"Why did you stop me? Those fuckers deserved to die" The psychotic Cheshire cat grin had returned to his face, scaring Matthew further.

"NO!" The usually quiet Nation had surprised them both with the intensity of his yell; Matthew had gasped and withdrew his arms from around Nikolai and placed both of his hands over his open mouth. He quickly began to weakly explain "I-I mean that it isn't really a big deal… They just didn't really realize that I was there. You don't need to hurt them, I'm sure they didn't mean it." If anything, this just served to make the other even angrier, his crazy smile twisting into more of a snarl and his eyebrows came together in a furious scar upon his face.

"That's even worse! They should notice you. Someone as precious as you deserved to be noticed." Moving swiftly passed Matthew, their arms brushing as Matthew stood completely frozen, unsure of what to do. No one had ever called him precious before, he never thought anyone would. After all he had done nothing to deserve it. He broke out of his frozen state just in time to swing around and grab Nikolai, who had been nearing the door. The platinum blonde gently pushed the smaller aside muttering something less than pleasant about castration and Frenchmen. Lunging at him one last time, Matthew blurted the first thing that came to his mind in a desperate attempt to stop the Belrusian man. He had grabbed Nikolai by the shoulders and stared up into his face desperately.

"I love you."

While Matthew was busy stewing in his shock and terror, Nikolai reached down and grabbed the distressed boy on the back of his head, his fingers winding into the soft locks. Then, he roughly pulled him up for a chaste kiss, leaning down to equal out their heights.

Nikolai stared down at Matthew, his midnight eyes boring deeply into the others cerulean orbs,

"I love you too" he said in both an incredibly simple and yet deeply meaningful way. Nikolai continued to stare down at Matthew, and that was the exact moment when he completely gave up on resisting the other and let himself fall deeply into the others gaze. He would entrust his heart to this man, and if it gets broken, it's alright because he knew he would still always love Nikolai, even if one day it becomes unrequited, he would know that it was because he had trusted him and willing gave him his everything. If Nikolai could love Matthew despite his flaws, then Mathew could definitely love Nikolai. That was all he needed to know.

~V~N~P~

**A/N: Hmmmm… I feel like I did this one badly. Half of the time I felt like I was writing SuFin, the other half just seemed overly ooc… sorry about that! Anyway I hope it wasn't awful! I actually had a lot of fun writing this one, I've never written a songfic before (I hope it didn't show) but I really enjoyed it anyway! So I hoped you liked! Request & review all you want! ^_^**


	3. NedCan

**A/N: This fic is going to be a NedCan fic. I don't know very much about Netherlands, but I'm giving it a try! Keep the requests coming! And thank you so much for the positive responses to the last oneshot!**

~V~P~T~

Matthew flinched again as he heard the thunder crash above. He was lying curled up in his bed, wrapped in his plethora of blankets like a shivering cocoon. He had been here for about an hour; Lars had gone out with Bella, Lovino and, much to the Dutch nation's frustration, Antonio. Matthew had decided that he would stay home, as he had checked the weather forecast earlier in the day and didn't want to humiliate himself by having a panic attack in public over something as elementary as thunder. He knew it couldn't hurt him, but he had been petrified by the very thought of it ever since he was a child.

Francis used to comfort him and make it almost bearable, but once he moved to Arthur's house, there was no more comfort on the stormy nights that frightened him so. He tried once, wandering into The Brits room in the wee hours of the morning, a blanket wrapped around his trembling shoulders and trailing on the floor, but Arthur had simply told him to bugger off. Since then, Matthew had learned to deal with the fear himself. He had thus far even managed to keep it from Lars by settling downstairs in the corner of their couch and attempting to relax there; usually failing.

He gasped and burrowed even deeper into his warm solace as lightning briefly lit up the room, the thunder following seconds later. He had conflicting feelings about whether or not he was wanted Lars to come home, as he definitely could do with some comfort, but also didn't want the larger man to think he was being childish. He knew that Lars would be angry with him for not telling him, but he just couldn't shake the feeling that he would refuse to ease his fears and think badly of him, just like with Arthur.

To Matthews dismay, he heard the telltale sound of the front door being opened downstairs. Panicking, the Canadian man unrolled from his cocoon and speedily spread the coverers over the rest of the bed. When he heard the heavy footsteps of his lover ascending the stairs, he quickly flipped himself onto his stomach and wrapped his arm around his pillow as tightly as he could; his knuckles turning white from the tight grip he had of the soft blue object and his face turned slightly in to shield his face slightly.

Lars reached their bedroom and opened the door, allowing a stream of light to enter the darkened room. He paused at the foot of the bed, presumably looking at Matthew to see if he was asleep. There hadn't been any thunder for a little while so Matthew could fake being asleep well enough by deepening his breathing and keeping still. The amber eyed nation apparently was fooled by this and moved on into the bathroom to prepare for sleep.

When he had finally settled into bed beside Matthew and settled into a comfortable position, Matthew slowly and carefully shifted onto his side, his back to his lover and gripped the side of their quilt tightly in his arms.

All was well for the next ten minutes or so and Matthew had just barely began to relax before the next astonishingly loud crack of thunder broke the silence in the room, it had been the loudest one yet, and Matthew started trembling violently, his heart smashing against his chest. He hoped desperately that his bedpartner was asleep, although if he was he would have been very impressed that he was managed to sleep though what sounded eerily similar to a gunshot in their bedroom.

The next couple rounds of thunder came much more quickly and effectively reduced Matthew to a quivering mess beneath his bed sheets. He was desperately trying to contain his petrified whimpers, but a few still managed to slip through. Every time Lars would shift, the blue eyed man would freeze, not allowing himself to move until he was certain that Lars had settled fully back down. He was waiting until he was certain The Dutch Nation was asleep before he would slip downstairs, raid the blanket closet, and reroll himself back into a little Canadian burrito. A very scared Canadian burrito. Another loud crash sounded and Matthew could feel himself begin to tear up, twitching slightly and giving off a whimper, he turned his head into his pillow to sniff as quietly as he could, desperate to hide his tears from his lover.

He froze when he felt the man next to him shift, and the bed dipped directly behind him. A large arm came around him and a warm chest pressed flush against his back. His face settled into the crook of Matthews neck and there were a couple beats of silence with the smaller of the two lying as still as he could and the taller breathing warm air onto his soft neck.

"Matthew, what's wrong?"

Opening his mouth to respond seemed pointless, as soon as he did, all that came out was a broken little sound; his throat was too filled with tears to respond. Lars sat up, lifting Matthew up with him, and gently stroked his soft hair out of his face. Pressing closer, Matthew hid his face in Lars' strong chest and wrapped his arms tightly around him, his fists gripping tightly to the silky green nightshirt Lars wore to bed. Neither spoke for a while; both content just to sit in each other's embrace. The silence was only broken by the occasional crash of thunder that sounded. Each crash and each flinch that Matthew made in response made the bigger man feel even worse for not noticing what was now completely obvious to him. It made him wonder how Matthew had managed to keep this a secret from him for so long. He didn't particularly care about that right now however, when he had an armful of scared, shaking boyfriend.

"Relax, Mattie. Just relax." Matthew was glad that he didn't try to tell him that it was okay, because it really wasn't okay. Not to him. He rubbed his cheek against the silky material of Lars' shirt and gave a small smile, though the Dutch man couldn't see it, and he closed his eyes; trying to block out the sound from outside, the rain pounding against the windows, the thunder smashing the dark night sky. He surrounded himself with only the smell and feel of the other man.

He turned his head and pressed his nose into Lars' collar, his breath slowing as he relaxed. "S-sorry…" He stuttered out quietly; turning his face away slightly in embarrassment. He didn't want to burden Lars with his foolish fears.

"Don't be ridiculous. I love you. The only thing that bothers me is that you kept this to yourself. How long Matthew? Have you been afraid of the rain?"

"I-I'm not afraid of the r-rain… It's the thunder" Matthew pushed back slightly on Lars' shoulders and stared hard at their comforter, the tears still dripping from his eyes.

"Matthew… how long?" Knowing that Lars wasn't a particularly patient person, Matthew decided that the best way to do this was to be straight about it. Get it over with, like tearing off a band aid, only… slowly.

"for as l-long as… I can remember." The Canadians sentence was broken by long spaces of silence as he tried to calm himself down; his throat was hurting from trying to hold back his tears.

"Why didn't you tell me? I want to help you" Lars looked mildly hurt, so the blue eyed man quickly reached up and pulled their faces together, resting his forehead against the others. He slowly responded, with the occasional hiccup puncturing his sentence.

"I didn't want to… b-bother you with it."

Looking surprised, Lars pulled back "You wouldn't have been a bother! I love you… you know that. It bothers me to know that you're suffering, and I'm not there to protect you."

Shifting suddenly, Lars surprised Matthew by tilting them both over and lying back onto the bed; Matthew wrapped in his arms and pressed up against him. He reached down and pulled the covers up over them, tucking them in just under his and Matthew's chin. Lars pressed a gentle kiss to the pink lips in front of him, winding his and Matthew's legs together.

"You aren't a bother… not at all. Just trust me please. I love you too much to let you suffer alone."

Matthew gave a weak nod and buried himself harder against Lars, whispering a soft, yet genuine, I love you in return. Thunder was still terrifying to him, he didn't doubt that it always would be, but if was so much easier to handle with his lover. Francis had certainly helped ease his fears, but he couldn't compare to Lars' strong protective love.

As the storm raged on he wasn't happy, far from it in fact, but he was content enough. He had Lars. He had love.

~V~P~T~

**A/N: There's the third one done! I hope you liked it! The last couple have been a little bit darker… so the next one might be a lighter one, depending on how I feel. Leave a review or request please! \^_^/**


	4. SpaBel

**A/N: Thank you for the wonderful responses on the last chapter! This chapter will be SpaBel! Just a little break from all the Canada fics… although I truly do enjoy writing them! I love Spain actually he is one of my favorite characters. (and Spamano is my OTP!)**

~V~P~T~

Bella sat in front of her dresser, a gilded hand mirror position in front of her smiling face; and a silky emerald green robe tied with a sash around her waist. She had a large selection of makeup in front of her, gifts from Feliks and Elizabeta. She had never used any before, she preferred to go au natural, but she wanted to look good for her date with Antonio that evening. It was early afternoon at the moment, and the light was filtering in through the sheer yellow curtains that were hanging in front of her balcony doors. It filled the room with a warm lightness.

Picking up a tube of strawberry flavoured chapstick, she removed the top and spread it across her slightly pouted lips, before staring critically at her appearance, her head turning back and forth to scrutinise her lips from every angle. She sighed; this colour was too pale, it was nothing like a strawberry! Picking up a tissue from the box on the dresser; she rubbed it off, leaving a pale streak of pink across the tissue, which was then discarded off to the side, to join the growing pile of other used tissues.

She knew Antonio didn't particularly mind how she looked at any time, but tonight was their one year anniversary, and she wanted to make it just a little more special with the help of light makeup, (as well as her new lingerie, but that's something else entirely) So far she had tried on a million colours and types of lipgloss, lipstick, and chapstick, but none of them had seemed right. Slouching back, she stared hard at the wide array in front of her.

She picked up a red tube, looking contemplatively at it. Cherry, hmmmm… she hadn't tried that one yet. The bouncy blonde tugged on the cap and twisted it up so that it peeked out over the edge. Pressing it to her lips, it glided smoothly across, leaving a bright red streak behind. As she reached down to pick up her mirror, the door to her bedroom swung open.

Antonio wandered into the room, smiling brightly at her.

"I made us some lunch, cariño. Would you like some?"

Bella smiled and nodded, turning back to her dresser and placing the tube back down.

"I would love that! Just let me clear up here."

"Wait!" Antonio exclaimed suddenly, "Is that cherry?"

Bella picked the tube back up and rolled it in her hand, "Yes… it is."

"Oh! Let me try some por favor?" Bella stared at him silently for a moment, he wanted to try some? But then sometimes she thought that Spain didn't have both oars in the water… so it wasn't completely unusual.

"Sure," She held out the vibrant red tube for him to take, but to her surprise he instead grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her in towards him, pressing his mouth against hers before pulling back slightly and running his tongue swiftly across her plump lower lip. When he pulled back, she stared blankly up at him, her emerald green eyes wide and her cheeks almost as bright as the chapstick.

"mmm…" Antonio spoke softly, sensually, and it made Bella blush even harder. "I can't wait to get some more of that later." And with that said, he released her wrist and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

As she pressed her fingertips to her lips in shock, Bella couldn't help but wonder if he meant the cherry chapstick, or… her. She cleared away the rest of the makeup, oh yes, she had made her choice.

~V~P~T~

**A/N: That was shorter than usual but I hope you don't mind! I've also never written for Belgium before, but I do have a Spamano fic that I wrote a couple of months ago, It's four chapters and if you're interested, you should check it out! Thanks for reading, Request and Review please! ^_^**


	5. Canadax2pCanada

**A/N: hey you know how I haven't written a Canada fic before? Well here you go. Doubly Canada! This one is Canadax2pCanada because why not. I hope you enjoy! I built a whole sad song playlist on my ipod to help me write this! James is 2pCanada**

~V~P~T~

I live with this constant fear that one day you'll leave me again.

I lie awake in bed, staring at your face, drinking in as much as I can before you inevitably disappear again.

When I do fall asleep I find myself awaking abruptly gasping desperately as my hands seek you out in the dark, only to feel overwhelming relief when my outstretched hands find you.

But the fear never truly leaves me; I can't afford to let it. Just because you are here today doesn't mean you won't leave tomorrow.

Can't you see how weak you make me? I love you so _so_ much yet… at the same time I can't help but hate you. You made me into the type of person who depends fully on another, and if they were you leave. The already cracked pieces of my glass heart would shatter. The broken shards would wound me to my very soul.

That someone like _you_ could do this to me. I never needed you before. And honestly, I really truly feared you when we first met. How did I become so dependent on you?

You were so forceful and conceited. It made me _sick_.

It made me sick that you could make me feel this fragile.

You were so… uncaring. You destroyed anything and anyone in your path, regardless of who they were. You destroyed me.

But then I fell in love with you.

I could see your vigor and your loneliness; a loneliness that echoed my own.

I found you, under the layers and layers of wall that you had built up, but I didn't realise it until you kissed me outside on the street in the middle of fall; my face covered in the tears that you had made me shed.

I soon learned that you didn't feel love, you felt lust. A kind of savage, primal lust that left nothing good in its wake, but I took it anyways, because isn't that what love is? Pain and grief and happiness all mixed together.

I tried for months and months. I tried and you laughed I loved and you… fucked.

Then you left.

And just as I knew I would, I shattered. I broke. I died. I was drowning in the pain, you left without a note, a word or an apology, and that was how I learned how much I truly loved you.

The emptiest days of my hollow life followed. I stopped sleeping. I stopped eating; I stopped even going to meetings, not like anyone would have noticed anyway. I barely even managed to feed Kuma.

I adored, yet I loathed you; I needed you and you were just gone.

But then you weren't. You were back; you were walking down the street towards me. I am ashamed to admit that I did cry when I first saw you again for the first time in a year because I honestly had started trying to get over you.

You waltzed straight back into my life like it was nobody's business.

I thought that I had broken when you left, but I managed to break even more when you came back, suddenly the old, timid, accepting Matthew broke and I yelled, I _screamed_ at you to get out because _how dare you_.

But you were different. You had softened somehow, you were sweeter. You weren't who I remembered you being.

It wasn't fair. You came back like nothing had happened and _it wasn't fair_.

When I finally asked you what happened, you just pulled out your ponytail tiredly and told me that you'd had some things to work out.

Looking back on these memories, I don't cry anymore; but it still hurts.

It took you so goddamn long to realise that I was in actual physical _pain _when you left.

But you somehow have made it up to me over and over again simply by _staying._

But why would you stay?

These doubts eat away at me in the night.

I have told you I love you countless times, so many that it was practically a mantra to me.

I see the way your face tightens when I say it.

I see the way you don't say it back.

Suddenly you sit up, staring at me.

"Matthew…"

"O-oh James, I thought you were asleep"

You grunts tiredly. "I was"

"Oh"

I was so _stupid_ I had woken you up. I was no good. We both knew it.

Your voice once again broke the heavy silence.

"Go back to bed."

"I…can't sleep"

You give me one of his rare, soft smiles. I'm surprised you can be that soft.

Wordlessly, you reach out and pull me back into bed, arms wrapped around my slender frame. My heart jumps the way it always does when you touch me.

You bury your face down in my blond hair, just a shade lighter than your own, and inhale deeply, like you were trying to breathe me in. When you speak again, your voice is deep and gruff.

"I'm sorry" I push back from your chest and stare up at you in confusion

"What for?" your face tightens the way it does when I tell you love you.

"For making you fall in love with me. For leaving. For… hurting you"

"James…" I sigh, looking up into your face.

"I love you."

I must be gaping like a fish at you, the shock of hearing you say that makes my body freeze up. I am unable to believe the words that come out of your lips.

"I love you" you repeat again, with more conviction. "and I'm sorry"

"You're… forgiven" I say breathlessly. Is this really happening?

You smile down at me again. I feel like I want to cry.

"I hate you" I say softly, not meaning my words at all.

"I know"

"You should never have come back"

"I know"

"You… really hurt me"

"I know." If it were anyone else, I would have thought that they were being obnoxious, but you are a man of few words. Just the same as me.

"I love you"

"I know."

~V~P~T~

**A/N: Please review to tell me what you think!**


End file.
